Supply and Demand: Unwanted Part 5a/9 (NCIS/SPN Crossover AU)
Supply and Demand: Unwanted Part 5a/9 (NCIS/SPN Crossover AU)
Author: Tari_Roo
Rating: PG13 (Gen)
Fandom: SPN/NCIS
Disclaimer: I own nothing, I profit from nothing.
Summary: NCIS/SPN Crossover AU. Gibbs didn’t want or need an Empath. But Director Vance was insisting and his team were avoiding him, more than usual, so when the T&E Centre called to say that Dean Winchester was available, it was time to pick up the unwanted Empath.
Spoilers: set somewhere in Season 6&7 of NCIS, and AU for SPN (all seasons)
Chapter 5
The facebrick wall was rough against his suit jacket, the little ridges and imperfections catching against the material as he shifted, transferring his weight from one foot to the next. An experienced investigator knew the value of patience, of the necessity of waiting out a suspect, the long stake out, the time it took to verify lab results, or sometimes just waiting for a perp to slip up and then ... whammo! ‘You’re nicked.’
Grinning a little to himself, Tony rubbed his back against the wall some more, running over a few of his favourite lines from the Guy Ritchie-fest he had gorged himself on last night. It had been good to lose himself in the gritty British underworld for a while, forget about the tensions and issues swamping his team.
But getting to the office this morning and then waiting for Gibbs and then having to phone him to find out where in the hell he was had just slammed all the dials back up to 11 and now, he was waiting. For Gibbs.
Gibbs was pretty darn punctual, usually the first on scene, usually the first to the field the call and sure, sure, he’d been off his game a little, ok a lot, the last few months but ole Touchy-Feely Winchester was supposed to make things better. Monday had been an utter disaster from the whole ‘make Gibbs as calm as Gibbs can be’ perspective and sure, yesterday had been better but there had been no case and now there was and who in the hell knew what Deano was going to do today.
Nonetheless, Tony had a plan - he was going to take charge of the situation and just smooth Gibbs through the rest of the week and by then, hopefully whatever it was, would have taken and they could boot Winchester to the curb. Yep, that was the plan. Gibbs just needed to arrive.
And there they were.
Gibbs looked like... Gibbs - so no danger signs there but with the Boss you never could tell. Winchester looked pretty relaxed and was scanning the surrounding buildings, checking out a few Marines as they passed. No thundercloud of petulance over him either, so maybe things were going to go better today.
“Morning, Boss! Deano!”
“Dinozzo,” Gibbs nodded as he strode past and Tony had to launch himself off the wall to catch up, skirting Dean as he did.
“Glad you made it, Boss! Rough night? Late night... wait, forget I asked. Ah, one quick thing,” Dinozzo had managed to get ahead of Gibbs and tried to head his Boss off, slowing down and putting out his hand, but not touching, definitely not touching.
An eyebrow was raised and Tony shot out, “Things are little sensitive up there. It’s more than just a break in. The officers were all at some fancy do last night, and came back to find their stuff trashed and the hall vandalised.”
“And?”
“And why us and not the MPs? Because of the vandalism - vindictive kinda stuff, Boss. Graffiti, broken personal items, urine on the beds, you know... sensitive stuff.”
Gibbs started walking again, heading for the stairs and Tony continued, trying to match his long stride, “The graffit’s pretty graphic as well, but nothing personal per say, like ‘Major Jane is a ...you now.’ It’s more general. But they’re all upset and spent the night in secure residences. Hence the call, Boss.”
By now, one flight of stairs later, Gibbs was pushing through the stairwell door and immediately the red spray painted word ‘Dykes’ greeted them. “Gloves, and that means you, Winchester.”
Gibbs didn’t stick around to actually enforce the order so Dinozzo ferreted for a pair in his kit and tossed them at Winchester who was soon snapping them on with disturbing ease.
“Done this before, I see.”
“You have no idea.”
Momentarily floored and subsequently rendered speechless by Dean’s response, or rather the fact that he had responded, Dinozzo stammered, “Say, what?”
But Dean was gone, following Gibbs down the hall. “Must have heard wrong,” Tony muttered to himself and then hustled down the hall. Gibbs was talking to a stern faced Major, who was either in charge of the residence or an aggrieved female officer, either way, Tony had steered clear of her. He could hear the sound of Ziva snapping away from one of the rooms and McGee was no doubt elbow deep in some Captain’s underwear drawer ... it was time to go to work.
Pasting on a serious look, trying to look like the professional he was, Dinozzo snagged Dean’s elbow and said, cheerfully, “Hey, Mr Talky, why don’t you help me in here.” And then bodily dragged a not overly resistant Winchester into the nearest quarters.
The name on the door was Captain JG Fredericks and it seemed that the Captain liked lacy underwear because it was now strewn all over her room. Her books, pictures and CDs had been totalled, and her mattress slashed. There was sure to be load of DNA evidence here and the surest indication of that was ...just plain disgusting. The moron had actually taken a dump in the middle of her carpet.
“Lovely. How come I’m the one that’s gets the shit-filled room?”
“Just lucky, I guess.”
Winchester was poking through some of the underwear, looking for who knew what and Tony hissed, “Hey, make yourself useful. Bag some of that and mark it on the sheet in the kit. Then show me - kay?”
Grimacing, Tony got to work, gingerly approaching the pile of crap, his hand covered in several evidence bags. “Man, I’m going to be smelling shit for the rest of the day. Gah!” Poo successfully sampled, Tony zipped up the bag and said, “Gotcha, idiot!”
Happily bagging underwear, Dean picked up a spray can which had been left on the dresser, no doubt fizzling out on the ‘Bitc’ scrawled over the mirror. As he dropped the can in a large bag, his head snapped to the right and he stared at the wall opposite. Tony felt the hairs on his arm stand just a little and he didn’t know if it was because of something Dean was doing or just nerves on his part.
“What?”
No response but Dean was on move, tossing the bags on the floor near the kit and Tony said, “Hold up will you!”
Following Winchester into the hall, he nearly smacked right into the back of him as Dean was standing stock still, head titled just a little - like he was listening for something. Gibbs was nowhere in sight and Tony wondered if that was perhaps the problem.
And then Dean was off, past one door then another and then he paused between two open doorways, McGee in the one room and the other empty. Again the weird listening thing and Tony opened his mouth to comment, when Dean’s head snapped towards the room on the immediate right, and was again moving.
“Damn, man. We need to get you a collar, like Doug in Up. Point!”
And point it was because Dean was now hovering near another ransacked dresser, clothes and underwear tossed every which way. “And?” Tony demanded, coming up alongside Dean, studying the drawers as well. A curious McGee stuck his head in and Dinozzo yelled, “Back to work, Mcslacky. Nothing to see here. Just Doug at work.”
“Nice.”
“What?” Tony exclaimed in his defence, making his eyes wide and innocent at Dean’s unimpressed glare. “I say again. And?”
“Whatever they were after, it was here.”
His forehead crinkling in a combination of confusion and disbelief, Tony said, “They? It? Who said ‘they’ were ‘after’ anything?” He was an expert, in his humble opinion, at adding the nonverbal inverted quotation marks of doom.
“Don’t know, man. But whatever they found here they were real happy about - like mission accomplished.”
Frowning still, Tony reached forward to poke the drawer in question’s contents and Dean stepped back to let him. “How do you know they weren’t excited to find ... a vibrator or cash or coke or something.”
“Because they stopped looking after this.”
“Say what?”
“The rest of the rooms, they’re not trashed.”
Tony stared at Winchester and then yelled, “Hey, McGee! Check out the rooms down the rest of the hall.”
There was a heartbeat of stunned and affronted silence and then Tim stuck his head in the room again, “What?”
“Just do it, McGee!”
The Probie’s offended footsteps trudged down the hall and he yelled back, “There’s only two more rooms after this and then a rec room.”
Returning and standing in the doorway, McGee said, “The last two aren’t as trashed, just graffiti on the door and lamps smashed.”
“Ha!” Tony waved a triumphant finger at Dean, who shrugged and said, “Doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”
“Come on, man. That’s a bit of a stretch - all this for something in a Marine Captain’s drawers.”
Sticking his hands in his pockets, the grey jumpsuit material stretching, Dean shrugged again, “Whatever. But if you wanted to cover up a search and seizure... this’d be the way to do it.”
“He has a point, Tony.” McGee was grinning a little, now leaning on the doorframe.
“On his head, maybe. Don’t you have vandalism to process, McGee?”
Still grinning, Tim ambled off and Dean seemed disinclined to help anymore, staring at a picture on the wall. Grumbling, Tony had to concede that he did have a point, actually, and he mumbled, “Wait here, Doug....”
Dean flipped him the bird as he left and Tony laughed as he hurried down the hall to fetch his evidence bags and kit.
Winchester was still looking at the picture when he got back and Tony glanced up at it, wondering what was so interesting. It was of a couple, smiling happily at the camera, sitting on a deck somewhere, an ocean stretching out behind them. The guy in the picture looked a little cheesy, black hair coiffed in one of those ridiculous trendy spikes, while the girl was blonde, gorgeous and way out of his league.
“Hmmmm... you getting vibes or something.”
“Doesn’t work that way.”
Snorting, Tony pulled out his bags, fingerprint brush and tin, and replied, “Oh, and this does?”
“Residual emotion.” Winchester was still staring at the picture, begloved hands in his pockets, seemingly miles away.
“Yeah, that really clears things up.”
“Dean?”
Gibbs’s voice was so unexpected that Tony nearly dropped his application brush into the drawer and whipped around, “Boss!”
But Gibbs’s attention was focused on Winchester who slowly dragged his gaze from the picture and nodded towards Tony. “They were looking for something. Found it here.”
There was no doubt or questioning eyebrow or hmph of disdain. No, Gibbs looked up at the name on the door, and said, “Let’s go talk to Captain LH Cadman then.”
The pair trooped off, leaving Dinozzo alone in the room - stunned. Dropping the brush anyway, Tony yelled, “Wait for me, Boss.”
He ran past Ziva who was just exiting the room she had been processing and yelled, “Sorry!”
Taking the stairs two at a time, Tony landed with sharp painful thud, and hop-limped out of the building to find Gibbs talking to the scary Major again.
“She was here, just a moment ago. Wanted an update.”
“Well now I have questions, Major Nel.”
Heart beating a little too fast for comfort, Tony faked casual and sidled up to Dean, making like he was supposed to be there, which he was. Captain Cadman hadn’t got too far and after a quick phone call by the Major, she was trotting up the sidewalk, looking very pretty in her dress uniform.
“Ma’am. Sirs.”
Gibbs stuck out his hand and said, “Agent Gibbs, Captain. Like the Major said, we have a few questions.”
“Of course, sir. Anything to help.”
Shaking his head at the ‘sir’, Gibbs continued, “It seems that the perps were in fact looking for something. Something that they found in your room.”
“My room, sir?”
“Don’t call me, sir, Captain. Agent Gibbs is fine. And yes, your room.”
Folding his arms, Tony watched the flicker of emotion over the Captain’s face. At first she genuinely appeared confused but them something registered and she stiffened. “I can’t think of anything that they’d be looking for. I’m not stationed anywhere at present, just attending training at Quantico.” She swallowed the almost ‘sir’ and shifted a little almost folding her own arms in a defensive gesture, before stopping herself.
Tony didn’t need an Empath to tell that she was lying, or more likely, covering up and neither did Gibbs. “You sure, Captain? Might not be related to your current posting, maybe an old one.”
Captain Cadman fidgeted, shot a wary look at the Major, who was giving her an equally quelling look and she sighed, “Pretty sure, sir.”
“You don’t sound sure, Captain. What was your last assignment?”
“Officially or unofficially?”
She was looking Gibbs straight in the eye now, a little belligerent and defensive, her arms now folded and wrapped around her torso.
“Does it matter?”
Nodding fiercely, Captain Cadman affirmed, “Oh yes, sir. Because I know you don’t have clearance for the unofficially and you won’t believe the officially.”
“You certain I don’t have clearance?”
“Positive, sir.”
“And officially?”
“Camp Lejeune. ”
“Yeah, I don’t believe that.”
“Like I said.”
Tony interjected, noting that Dean was paying close attention to the conversation but standing back, off to one side so that it didn’t look like he was involved. “Captain, you sure there’s nothing from your unofficial post that might be of interest... that perhaps you shouldn’t have?”
She tried to stop her reaction by taking a deep breath but she blushed anyway. Gibbs stepped closer, crowding her little, despite the Major’s cough, and said, “What do you have?”
Twitching now in embarrassment, Cadman seemed like she was shutting down, preparing to hide behind her ‘classified’ posting when she glanced over at Dean. Her fidgeting stilled and she took a deep breath and turned back to Gibbs.
“It was a keepsake. A ... something to remember a friend by - a friend who died. I shouldn’t have kept it, should have left it on .... at the base. But I kept it.” Cadman stared at Gibbs with an air of defiance, daring him a little. “It doesn’t have any information, or data or anything ... it was just a stupid ornament that reminded me of Cars... of my friend.”
“An ornament?”
“Yes.”
Gibbs shot a glance at Winchester who ignored him, before probing further, “What kind of an ornament?”
Sighing, Captain Cadman huffed, “Just that, sir. An ornament. I shouldn’t have taken it, because nothing is supposed to leave ... there. I know it’s not important or a breach of security but ...”
“It’s valuable?” Tony asked, thinking that maybe it was some Iraqi or Afghani historical nick nack.
Cadman was hesitant but nodded, “I suppose. But I don’t ...”
“Can you describe it?”
Way ahead of his Boss, Tony whipped out his note pad and began making notes as Cadman sighed, “Small, blue - kinda looks like a turtle with extra flippers. Carson... my friend used it as a paperweight, for crying out loud! It doesn’t ... I didn’t do anything wrong ... really.”
Heartfelt her conviction might be but she didn’t sell them on it, and Tony finished off his mini-sketch with a note, ‘Carson?’
“Anything else you may have ... kept?” Gibbs loaded that last word with connotation and meaning and Cadman blushed again, this time in anger.
“No, sir,” and she stressed the ‘sir’. “One damn ornament.”
“Right. And you have no idea why someone would want it?”
“No! Are you even sure that they were searching for it?” This time Cadman glanced at Dean, studied him for a moment or more likely his jumpsuit and then took a step away from him. “Are you sure?”
“Reasonably. That’s all for now, Captain.”
Nodding at Winchester, Gibbs thanked the Major and turned back towards the residence hall, Winchester on his heels. Tony smiled at both ladies, who both glared back at him and he beat a hasty retreat.
Entering the cool foyer of the building, Tony said loudly, “You want me to check out her last deployment, sir?”
From up the stairs, Tony could hear Gibbs growl, “What do you think, Dinozzo?”
Pausing to pack away his note pad, Tony sighed to himself, “I’ll slap myself on the head, Boss. Don’t worry.”
By the time he reached the top of the stairs, Ziva sent him back down to the van to get more evidence bags. There was plenty of trace and DNA evidence - whoever had done this either didn’t watch TV, lived in the 19th century, was a out of time criminal from the 70s or a moron. Either way, Tony was certain that Abby would identify them, their last known address, last meal and IQ.
The trip back the Navy Yard was the usual mix of banter and threats, mostly from Ziva who was trying to convince Tony to pull over and let her drive - apparently he drove like a geriatric snail. McGee in the back was playing on his phone, no doubt im-ing Abby and giving her an update.
As they pulled into the garage, Gibbs’s town car following them in, Abby was waiting for them, her pigtails braided and bouncing in time with her excitement.
Smiling at her, Tony called out, “A welcoming committee, how nice Abs.”
But she paid no attention to him and as Winchester got out of the passenger side of the town car, she exclaimed, “What the hell did you do to my gas chromatograph, Dean? Huh?”
Ah, immunity to Winchester’s charms was developing, and Tony smiled as Dean was dragged from the garage, Abby bending his ear with demands that he ‘make it stop screaming, right now!’
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